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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854725">what happens (to a dream deferred?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa'>flustraaa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Car Accidents, Concussed Spencer Reid, Crying Spencer Reid, Episode: s07e01 It takes A Village, Gen, Hurt Spencer Reid, Injured Spencer Reid, Sad Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Fluff, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer is falling apart tbh, Stuff is happening imma be honest, like a lot of it, migraines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:33:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“i thought we were past this— i thought he could trust us again. i thought we were whole again,” emily breathes, words muffled by tears and the cotton of jj’s t-shirt. “how did this manage to get worse?” </p><p>“i feel like if he could, spence would tell us that one ernest hemmingway quote about trust, but really snarling, don't skimp out on that reid-brand sass.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid &amp; Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid &amp; David Rossi, Spencer Reid &amp; Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid &amp; Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid &amp; Henry LaMontagne, Spencer Reid &amp; Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Spencer Reid &amp; Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid &amp; The BAU Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>447</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>follow me on tumblr @linguinereid. or don’t. totally up to you, darling.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spencer was just starting to feel normal; the world stopped whirling on it’s axis everyday, and he could finally breathe again. He was beginning to get a grip on his headaches.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe, he thinks— <em>hopes</em>, fleetingly, that’s all they were. <em>Headaches</em>. Not a precursor to a hereditary SMI that he has a thirty two percent chance of inheriting from his mother, not migraines, not anything he hasn’t dealt with before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spencer reminds himself that he’s survived bullet wounds that have left parts of his body utterly obliterated, kidnappings that have left him forever changed, drug addictions that he’scompletely overcome, and the general trauma that he endures in chasing down serial killers on a day to day basis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s fine he thinks as he pulls his knees into his chest, braced against the not quite green but not quite brown (<em>mucus colour??</em>) of the hospital chair. He finds himself moving on thoughtless limbs, pacing and sitting. His hands pry against the smooth skin of his face and he can’t think about anything other than the way the pain is beginning to ring behind his eyes and across the cranial sutures of his skull.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Distantly, he cant help but ponder that with every day, they seem to become more and more like fault lines, threatening to rupture and wipe out Reid in their wake.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For now, as he settles back into the chair for what he doesn’t know will be the last time; he allows his eyes to focus on a single spot. The minutes tick away and he finds himself in that comfortable amount of blur. A place where he’s conscious but blissfully unaware, and the spot on the wall feeling more like home with every second that passes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sees a chip in the off-white, somewhere between yellow and eggshell coloured paint. It makes his fingers twitch with discomfort, his stomach lurch with unease at the imperfection.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sinks into his memories. If he thinks enough he can extract the visions of the reason behind his disdain for hospitals. He can see the bright lights and white walls, he can feel the way William Reid’s large hand clasped around his. He can hear his father’s heartbeat under his exhausted head, and he can feel the way his mother would scratch at him when she forgot that he wasn’t a weapon of the government— but rather her son— her <em>baby</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can hear the way her cries filled the air when they medicated her, and the sedated breaths that followed. He can see so clearly the specific moment, frozen in time, in whichhis father decided to he was going to leave.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Spencer can feel the aftershocks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’ll never be able to forget— and the meaning transcends all literal interpretations.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hates hospitals, and when JJ walks in with barely suppressed tears, Garcia’s echoed, “no” filling the space, Spencer rises to his feet, knowing he needs to leave.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He needs to evacuate the area. He refuses— he absolutely cannot show them how vulnerable he is when he’s encased in four cinderblock walls that reek of antiseptic and tears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But when JJ catches him by his chest, and he can only croak out, “I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s not so sure if he’s just talking about Emily anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her words are a blurt to him, but he understands what her motion means, no matter how frequently he struggles with social cues. She wants to hug him, and part of him knows it’s for her own piece of mind— that he’s not going to do something reckless.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It is precisely in moment that JJ pulls him into her arms, wrapping around him tightly— that he knows he’s not just thinking about Emily. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By time he leaves the interview in Hotch’s office, his heart isn’t the only thing pounding against his bones. He’s breathless, and- and senseless— and above all else, his head is weeping in the form of unadulterated and unchecked pain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s the same kind that’s been thrumming through his skull for days at this point, and it’s getting to the extent where he can no longer pretend like he’s just having headaches. His skull is deteriorating by now, he’s almost sure of it, and he’s walking a fine line between taking some form of Paracetamol and downing a coffee, and suffering through.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It seems his head comes to the decision long before he can, and he knocks out on his desk. Initially, he’s just leaning against a palm, eyes closed— but by the time that Morgan finds him his head is cradled awkwardly by an upturned forearm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Morgan stares at the picture before him for a long moment, before he sends a look to JJ. Her eyes fall on Reid, and within an instant she’s hovering above him, twisting her ring around her finger anxiously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is he okay?” She questions, turning to him with hopeful eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If I had to guess the interview probably took it out of him. Have you <em>seen</em> this kid lately, JJ?” Morgan murmurs back, a note of incredulousness filling the inflections in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Morgan reaches out, gently shaking Reid’s shoulder. He wakes with a jolt, the heel of his hand uncoordinatedly burrowing against his still closed eyes. His brows furrow until they create a crinkle in the space between, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did I fall asleep?” Reid murmurs, voice rough and crackling with exhaustion. “How long was I out?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Morgan just looks at him for a long moment, “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Reid responds easily, “I think I just rested my eyes for a little too long.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He moves to rise— likely to hide with Garcia before they can keep interrogating him. Morgan instead, presses a had to his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you <em>sure</em>, Kid?” He asks softly, the expression in his eyes mirrors his tone of voice, “it’s okay if you aren’t, I don’t think any of us <em>really</em> are.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m okay,” He says back, sending Morgan a clipped nod. “I always am.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that night marks the seventh day that Reid has cried himself to sleep in JJ’s living room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not until a month later, when Spencer has shoved himself in the space between JJ’s coffee table and the base of the couch that he decides that he’s <em>not</em> okay, after all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spencer’s knees are curled up to his chest, forearms settled around his shins. He has long since stopped rocking back and forth, but the remnants of his chattering teeth are clear as day. His chin is still bouncing, teeth clacking together once in a while— and there are still clear pale remnants of tear tracks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s reaching for the cup of water JJ set before him, hand shaking as he finally wraps his unsteady fingers around it. He can’t help but think about how there is absolutely no way he’ll be able to raise the drink effectively to his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But within a second, JJ sweeps by him, slipping a purple paper straw in the cup. Spencer knows that, in theory, paper straws are more efficient in preserving the environment— they biodegrade in anywhere from two to six weeks, an—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">JJ cuts off his thoughts, setting a peanut butter and jelly down in front of him as she starts speaking, “What’re you thinking about up there?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Paper straws are a better alternative to plastic straws. They biodegrade in two to six weeks and don’t cut marine life like plastics do. I have stock in them— and bamboo straws, because I think they’re going to get popular soon,” He licks his lips, biting the inside of his cheek, and never once moving his eyes from the whole wheat bread.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what do you think?” It’s apparent that JJ is both keeping tabs on his dark thoughts, and also just trying to distract him. He doesn’t have the energy to lie, so he just starts speaking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They’re <em>soggy</em>,” he offers pathetically, “and I don’t really like how they feel when they’re soggy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knows that, ironically, everything is about feeling for him. If a fabric is too scratchy he won’t buy it— he’ll be focused on it all day. If a pair of shoes bring his toes a little too close together, they’ll be discarded immediately.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You should eat. I didn’t see you eat anything at work today,” she says, running her hand up and down his spine soothingly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“JJ,” he croaks, resting his head on her shoulder. “With all due respect, if I try to eat— it <em>will</em> come back up right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She brings a hand up to his forehead, voice caring and soft, “are you feeling okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just had a panic attack.” He reminds her, dryly, and she clicks her tongue, clearly tutting him for being sarcastic. “My stomach is rolling.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You knew what I meant,” She retorts softly, and when he doesn’t respond, she turns to catch a glimpse of his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes are half lidded, and completely unfocused. While her heart aches, it’s not all painful, “Are you going to fall asleep?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He licks his lips, eyes closing for an extended time, “I think so. Drowsiness is one of the side affects of my new medications.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s clear that he’s starting to lose his filter, so JJ just stands up, rising to her feet and helping him up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you feel more comfortable here or the guest room?” She asks, not expecting a reply, let alone a coherent one.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want Henry to see me again,” He breathes, words slurring and the soft lisp from childhood that only pokes through when he’s half asleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” She soothes, slinging his arm around her and supporting him just in case he’s less alert than he appears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They slips past the threshold of the guest room, and JJ peels back the covers of the bed. She watches as Reid clambers into them, limbs clumsy and uncoordinated.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s asleep before she can even pull the blanket up over his shoulder. She takes a moment, just to look at him, and he heart aches a little more.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">How she wishes she could make this pain stop, but then she can hear Hotch’s voice in the back of her head, reprimanding her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So instead, she tucks back the small curl of fringe that have fallen into his face, and lets out a heavy sigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And when he nuzzles into the touch still deeply asleep, she can’t watch anymore. She leaves, knowing that if she stays any longer— she’ll ruin Emily’s secret. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Five and a half months pass, and there’s a dynamic change. Reid is slowly becoming someone he doesn’t recognise, and maybe, just maybe it’s for the <em>better</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He takes his firearm to the range, channeling all of who he is into becoming the marksman that Hotch always knew he could be. His headaches are subsiding, and he begins to find believe in the fact that he may not be losing his grip on sanity. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His team his split— his family is fractured, but everything is returning to normal. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And for the first time in his short, yet somehow incredibly long life, he has hope. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spencer can tell that something is going incredibly wrong, but he can’t tell what it is— and for the first time, he’s not annoyed. He should feel like they’re treating him like a kid, but it’s almost better for him to know that he can’t be set back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to learn what’s happening around him, and it’s this thought that tell him indefinitely: </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Emily’s death and his life have changed him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he’s not sure if it’s for the better. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Don’t fret too much, because the moment Emily returns, his life falls back to shit. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After he hugs her, his heart mends and callouses over. He’s so concentrated in being furious at half of his team that he can’t feel the pounding of his head over the breaking of his heart. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They <em>lied</em> to him, and it’s then that he realises he was out of the loop so much more than he ever imagined. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe it’s for the best, maybe it’s better that he focuses on the pain that pulls at his heartstrings, the pain that makes his stomach roll with anxiety and hate. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">God forbid Reid is <em>ever</em> under control. After all, why let him breathe when God can just send Emily in to ruin everything. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not until Reid is walking into the briefing room that he realises, anger isn’t enough to keep his headaches away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Morgan glances up with he hears Spencer’s hand slap flat against the doorframe. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you okay?” He murmurs, eyeing Reid’s form with concern. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The kid is about eight shades lighter, skin gleaming with sweat. His clothes are rumpled, his hair a mess, and eyes squeezed shut.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>M’fine</em>,” he grunts, pushing himself up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But just he gets up, he topples over— but luckily Emily isn’t far behind him. She catches him by the neck and shoulders, Hotch slipping a hand under his back and together they ease his lanky frame to the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Reid,” Emily calls, tapping a hand against the kid’s chest, “Hey, can you hear me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hotch is pulling out his phone to call an ambulance just as Reid’s face contorts with a groan, eyes flirting open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he sees twelve eyes blinking down at him he groans, “Did I <em>faint</em>?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Derek breathes out on a sigh, flopping back down into his chair, “You dropped like a fly.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, what the hell was that?” Emily blurts, sinking back into her heels.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Reid pushes himself up onto his arms, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine, I think I’m just dehydrated,” he mumbles after a moment has passed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re just dehydrated? Kid, you would’ve eaten shit if Emily didn’t catch you—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine,” Reid says, voice a lowkey growl, “Stop <em>pushing</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t need to go to get checked over,” Hotch sighs, and Reid turns to look him dead in the eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine.” Hotch continues to stare, “and I don’t need to go to the hospital.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yeah, Reid’s <em>totally</em> fine.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except he’s not— and he’s wondering if his earthquake has <em>finally</em> come. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At Rossi’s dinner, they’re not fully surprised when Reid doesn’t show up. The mood that was hopeful and uncharacteristically happy soon begins to fade, and they eventually end up slipping into stories about Reid.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you know he’s rising up the ranks of marksmanship?” Hotch says suddenly, “all I can think whenever I hear that he’s almost at a perfect score is that time that I kicked the snot out of him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry,” Emily says, laughing as sips her wine, “You did <em>what</em>?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I gave him a whistle before that in case he ever needed any help on the field.” Derek shakes his head, sitting back in his chair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re telling me Reid isn’t immediately good at everything he tries?” Emily’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, but somehow, they all see right through it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Penelope smiles grimly, pulling at the fringe of her dress, “God, no. Wonder boy was a <em>mess</em> before we met you— even when we met you. I guess until <em>Hankel</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyebrows furrow, and she closes her mouth, gnawing on her inner cheek as the room goes silent.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t split up,” JJ states, eyes on her wine glass, but the look behind them miles away. “Maybe he’d still be the Reid that we sang happy birthday to, and forced into that blue cake hat.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“As long as he doesn’t turn out like Hotch, I think we’re okay.” Rossi cracks a grin, nudging Hotch’s shoulder who scowls.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Hey</em>!” He reprimands, shoving Rossi right back. “I can be <em>funny</em>. Why did the chicken cross the road?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room blinks at him, and he raises his eyebrows. Finally, Derek sighs out, “<em>Why</em>?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because McDonald’s wanted chicken nuggets, and that’s all under the pyramid scheme of <em>capitalism</em>—“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Please</em>, stop,” Emily murmurs, “If you love us, you’ll stop.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A round of laughter breaks through the silence, and they return to telling stories and revisiting their time in the BAU.</span>
</p><p class="p1">”<em>See</em>,” he offers, gesturing vaguely, “I made you laugh. <em>Comedy</em>.” </p><p class="p2">It’s not long after that Hotch gets a call from Jessica, saying the traffic is terrible and he should start heading home if he wants to tuck Jack in.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who was it?” Derek asks, eying him suspiciously, as if terrified they’ll be whisked back into the world of serial killers. “Hotch, if we have—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was Jessica,” He truncates Derek’s words, conveying her message to them, “She said that someone got bumped off the highway near here, and that there’s a huge traffic jam.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The thought never crosses anyone’s mind of who it could’ve been, and then JJ speaks, “I should get going too. Henry is probably driving Will up the wall. Thanks for the cooking lesson, Rossi.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just like that, the night begins to come to an end.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s only as JJ and Derek sit in the front seat of her car that she catches sight of the accident on the highway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They look at each other, and back to the ambulance that’s doors have just closed. The car had broken through the guardrail, and they can only see the bumper off from where it sits on the hill.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think—“ she cant bring herself to ask the question, but Derek understands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not <em>him</em>,” Derek breathes after a moment, shaking his head, “It can’t be. We’re just paranoid, JJ.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re right,” She mumbles, grip becoming more and more white knuckled by the second. “It couldn’t be him.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next morning, everything falls apart. JJ takes the morning off to take Henry to see his paediatrician for a yearly checkup and some boosters. She and Will hold his hands while the doctor distracts him with a song and administers the immunisations. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s minimal tears, much to her surprise, and she’s walking out of the by the ICU, Henry balanced on her hip, happily munching on his caramel apple flavoured lollipop. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not until she catches a glance of one of the rooms that her heart stops. Spencer is laid out flat on the bed, a massive gash in his temple and arm in a sling. He has a black eye, a gash on his cheekbone, and bruises scattering along— well, honestly? Everywhere. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Oh my God</em>,” she forgets she’s with Henry until she hears his breaths hitch and his wailing sobs start to fill the air. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Mommy</em>! That’s <em>Uncle Pens!</em> Mommy!” He’s trhing to wriggle his way out from his grip, but Will just swoops in, taking their bawling son from his place on her hip. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">JJ tales clipped steps to the desk, shoving down her emotions as she calls Hotch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hotchner,” he answers immediately, “JJ? Have you hear from—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, I’m going to be later than I though. Henry is fine, I’ll call you back with more info in a bit,” She breathes out, hanging up when she reaches the receptionist. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi,” The older woman greets, a soft smile on her face, “What can I do for you, Darling?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I— In— I just saw... Do you have a John Doe?” She breathes, and the receptionist immediately recognises the stress in her face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” She’s careful, tiptoeing around the answer, “the Doctors just ID’ed him. We’re about to call his emergency contacts.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s— uh, that’s Doctor Spencer Reid“ JJ sucks in a breath, brushing the hair out of her face before she continues, calming herself, “I think I might be one of his contacts.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you tell me your name, hon?” She asks, clacking on the keys, “and can I get some ID from you?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m Jennifer Jareau,” JJ opens her purse, swiftly pulling her wallet from the side pocket. She immediately slips her license over to the woman.“My supervisor is sending a coworker with his ID badge.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, give me a moment.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She disappears into the room behind her, and returns moments later with a young nurse, “Hi, Miss Jareau. I’ll take you to Doctor Reid, the Doctor will come talk to you about what’s happened momentarily.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">JJ nods, tucking her wallet back into her bag and following behind the nurse with shaky steps. She loses her breath when she finally steps into the room— everything becomes so much more real. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t realise she’s stopped moving, feet glued at the threshold until the nurse comes up, softly taking her arm, “You’ve blanched, sweetheart, I’m gonna have you sit down. I don’t need you passing out and hitting your head too.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knees down in front of where JJ has sat down, taking her hands, “alright, dear, I know it’s hard to see someone like this, but I’m going to need you to look at me, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">JJ nods, licking her lips as she focuses on the nurse, “yeah. I’m sorry— I see stuff worse than this everyday it’s just...” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s different when it’s someone you love,” she says, voice sympathetic and warm, and if it were any other circumstance, she’d hate being spoken to like this, “I know, sweetheart. Can you do me a favour? Tell me about some things you can see that aren’t Doctor Reid.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">JJ nods, eyes darting around the room, “I can see your scrubs— do you normally work with the kids?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I switched from the paediatric care, I still have a plethora of train, fairy, and Scooby-Doo scrubs, pretty much anything,” She sends her an encouraging smile, “keep going.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have really pretty hair,” JJ offers, and though she feels pathetic her statement is true. The nurse has beautiful 4c hair that frames her face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, I get it from my mom.” She smiles, squeezing JJ’s hands to bring her attention back. “How about you, I saw you and your partner come in earlier with that little boy. Is he yours?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” JJ croaks, “that’s my little one.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, how precious. Tell me all about him, hm?” Her eyes are warm, and JJ can’t help but wonder how many people she’s had to talk down like this, “how old is? what’s his name? what’s his favourite animal?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“His name is Henry. He’ll be four next November, and he loves dinosaurs thanks to his uncle,” JJ sniffs, wiping her face, “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s alright, sweetheart, feel what you need to feel right now,” She soothes, “I wasn’t here when Doctor Reid came in, but after his surgery last night they expect he’ll make a full recovery.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s on that note that the Doctor walks in, and starts going over all of the information with her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Across the city, Emily taps her fingers anxiously against the table as Hotch and Rossi enter the room with grim expressions on their face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, did the kid finally decide to leave the BAU?” Emily blurts, and everyone’s eyes dart to her, “did I make him leave? I thought we were going to be okay—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Emily,” Rossi utters, and the tone of the room severely shifts, “I think you’re severely misreading this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened?” Penelope gasps, taking in Hotch’s white knuckled grip on their blank reports from the last case, “Where’s JJ? She was supposed to be back at ten.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“JJ is fine, and so are Will and Henry,” Hotch replies, “JJ was walking out of the hospital when she caught sight of the John Doe from the car crash last night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my God,” Derek mumbles, “she was right.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who was right?” Garcia asks, tears welling in her eyes as she prays that the answer is not what she thinks it is, “Morgan, who was right?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Last night we drove by, and she just kept staring at the wreck— she couldn’t peel her eyes away from it and eventually she just asked if I thought it was him,” He runs a hand over his face. “I said it couldn’t be.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was Reid,” Rossi states, fiddling with his rings, “Hotch got a weird call from JJ— saying she was going to be late, and five minutes later he got a call from the hospital saying that Reid was in the ICU.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do we do?” Penelope mumbles, and Emily reaches an arm over to rub soothing circles into her back, “We can’t just leave him alone.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We can’t—“ he’s cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, and he flips it open, setting it on speaker, “Hotchner.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hotch, it’s JJ. The Doctor just left the room, Reid was in the car that got rammed through the guardrail,” She sighs, and they can tell she’s pacing, “they had to give him surgery for a few things. I’ll spare you the details, but he’s in rough shape. He’s going to be fine, but he’s still asleep.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you know how long he’ll be asleep?” Hotch asks softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you on speaker?” She asks and what little hope was in the room drains. He hums a noise of affirmation, “can you take me off?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A sob claws it’s way out of Penelope’s throat, and Derek snakes his hand around her arm before she can leave. He wrap her in a hug, and she cries into his shoulder as Hotch takes the conversation into the hall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“JJ,” he demands, closing his office door from behind him, “what aren’t you telling me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s been having migraines since last year, and I’m pretty sure he had one when he passed out. They said that they took a CT scan, and his concussion was only mild— a few of the vessels were enlarged and starting to form a clot. They took it out before it could develop.” She mutters, and he can hear her shuffling and the beep of the monitors around her, “they put him in a medically induced coma, his shoulder is wrecked and he has a black eye. He’s going to be out for at least another eight hours, a few days at most.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">“Alright,” Hotch smooths his fingers across his forehead, “I’ll keep everyone here— let me know if anything changes.”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” It’s only then that she allows her voice to crack.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He asks, voice softening into a fatherly tone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” She mumbles, “I just wish... I dunno. It’s always him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’ll be alright, he always bounces back.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Hotch is right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s nearing eight o’clock, and she’s nursing a cup of coffee of one hand, and holding a sleeping Henry steady against her chest with the other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“JJ?” His voice is a croak, and he starts to push himself up, as his eyebrows furrow at the bright lights, “What happened?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She immediately holds out a water bottle, a straw tucked in the top for him to sip. Once he’s gotten a decent amount down, she answers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You got into a car crash on the way to Rossi’s,” she states, hefting Henry onto her left hip as she settles a hand against Reid’s chest, pushing him back down. “Settle down tiger, you’re ahead of the curve.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” He mumbles, but doesn’t fight her settling back down into his prone position. “JJ, everything from after leaving my apartment for Rossi’s is a blank.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s probably from your head hitting the steering wheel,” She sets Henry down on the chair she was just sitting in, and he curls up immediately, shoving his thumb on his mouth, “you’re in pretty rough shape right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why aren’t you telling me what happened?” He blurts, pushing himself up again, “I won’t rest until you tell me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She bites her lip, eyebrow furrowing as she helps him adjust the pillows and presses the nurse button.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” She says softly, taking his hand, and to her surprise, he doesn’t fight it. “Morgan and I saw a car flipped off past the guardrail when we were driving home, and something felt wrong. You know when you get one of those feelings you can’t push away?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nods, opening his mouth to say something but deciding against it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Morgan convinced me it couldn’t be you, and I made myself forget. But I was taking Henry to his check up, and I saw you thought the glass on our way out,” She finally manages, tears spilling over and scorching burning paths down her cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes flit over to Henry, who is still fast asleep, “JJ, did he <em>see</em> me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She purses her lips, nodding as the tears fall faster, “I didn’t think it was real until he started screaming.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spencer reaches out, a gasp escaping his lips at the pain that aches throughout his body, “JJ, I’ll go to sleep but I need him to see me away and okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She nods, scooping up her son, rousing him from sleep. He rubs his eyes just as she plops him down on his Uncle’s lap.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey buddy,” Spencer whispers, kissing Henry’s temple.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uncle <em>Pens</em>,” Henry squawks, wrapping himself around Spencer with a gasp.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry for scaring you, kiddo,” Spencer whispers, closing his eyes as he rests his chin on Henry’s head, “Your mommy told me you were super strong at your doctors appointment today.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">It’s a desperate attempt to distract Henry, who is on the verge of tears from hearing Spencer’s voice.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have so many boo-boos,” Henry states, chin wobbling as his big eyes well up with salty tears, “I thought you were gonna go stay with grandpa.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spencer’s heart breaks, and he wraps his arms a little tighter around Henry, “Not yet, kiddo. Not yet.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Thirty minutes later, the team stumbles in all at once to see Reid holding Henry leaned back against the headboard with his eyes closed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is he asleep?” Rossi asks, but JJ doesn’t get a chance to answer as Reid’s eyes pop open to look at them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” He replies, “Henry is.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leans around to catch a glimpse of his godson, before looking back up at his team.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just want you guys to know that I was going to come to Rossi’s. I‘m still upset with a lot of you,” He mutters, pausing to yawn, “I understand why you did what you did, but I’m not going to be okay with it for a long time.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t blame you,” Emily responds, shrugging. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Careful, I’ll get therapy and make you pay for it,” he says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ll willingly talk to a stranger about your problems?” Derek snorts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Reid shakes his head, pulling his lips into a thoughtful (and exaggerated frown), “they won’t get close. We’ll just talk about different shades of varying colours can effect mood.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At that moment, Jack comes bounding in an clambers up on the bed, snuggling against Reid as well.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When did you become a kid magnet?” Emily blurts, watching the scene unfold before her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno, I’m scared of most of ‘em,” his words are slurring with that same lisp he gets right before he conks out on the jet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you stay up to see us?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I might’ve told him that I could hear Penny crying,” JJ says, “he wanted you guys to all see him awake.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And now that you have,” he sighs, groaning as he carefully lays himself out, Henry and Jack on opposite sides of his chest, “Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s going to be okay?” Penelope asks, watching as Reid drifts further into sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” JJ finally releases the breath she’s been holding, “he’s going to be okay.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>once again, idk how happy i am with this but if i spend any more time thinking about it im going to loose my marbles uwu. wee woo wee woo mihi canis</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my anxiety right now is going weee wooo weee woo, and every time ive written and rewritten this i’ve HATED the way it’s turned out. this is based on like five separate requests ive gotten that im shoving together.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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